Celebrations
by Teyerin
Summary: A collection of short bits about various celebrations.
1. Chapter 1

Celebrating Chapters

The usual disclaimers: If I had any part or parcel within the World of Wolf, I wouldn't be working for a living, I'd be playing. The characters, he owns, the snippets created here, I'll own up to. Credit McCoylover for daring me to put the LO 100 challenge word to use.

Chapter 1

"What's this for again, Jack?"

He smiled wryly as he held the door open for her. "You've forgotten if you have to ask."

His companion shook her head, eyes narrowed, pondering an argument of some kind as she looked at him. "I haven't forgotten – it's just not obvious to me, that's all."

Taken directly to their table, he held a chair out for her.

"All right," Jack said once the wine was poured, something already waiting for them, "I _might_ be a few days later than usual for this, but it doesn't change anything."

She folded her hands in front of her and regarded the man sitting to her right, his eyes dancing in the candlelight. "Jack, this isn't fair."

He held out a small box, size enough for a ring or necklace. "True. It took a great man's departure for this to happen, but I'm glad it did."

She accepted the box, puzzled. It hadn't even been a week for her to settle in yet at-.

"Open it," he said softly.

She did, not taking her eyes off of him. The lid lifted, she stole a glance at the lapel pin inside. "Oh, Jack…"

"New chapter, time for celebration….boss."

She fastened the pin to her sweater. "This is….thank you, Jack."

Leaning forward, Nora Lewin gave Jack McCoy a kiss on the cheek.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She stared at the drink she had ordered.

She was asking herself yet again what she had done to deserve this. It wouldn't have been so bad had someone bothered supporting her to the bitter end. Then again, if it was known before it happened, then she was going to be livid.

"Last time I checked," a voice said taking a seat beside her, "mind tricks and alcohol seldom work together."

"Oh yeah?" she said angrily. "Well, something tells me that you're not surprised that we'll no longer-."

"For the record, I argued," he said before ordering his drink. "I argued until I was blue in the face, but the decision was already made."

She looked at him, only a few drinks in her system, but enough to have her look at him with vision askew. "I'm curious as to who 'outed' me. Was it you?"

He gave her a look mixed with hurt and sadness. "If that's how you want to carry this, then fine. I'd never betray a confidence like that. Never."

"Well, there was no right-."

"If you want to consider yourself 'outed,' then how about it being known as a people's advocate? Is _that_ such a bad thing?"

She shook her head. "That's not… It hurts a lot, Jack."

"So, is this a wake or an awakening for you?"

She hated how he did that. "Does it make a difference?"

"It does if you want to look at is as a ticket to do that which you're remarkably good at, whether or not you want to admit that or not."

She gave him a hard look. "Jack, you're the only guy I'd know who could turn a 'firing' into something to celebrate," Serena Southerlyn said, then finished her drink.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

He found a bench along the waterfront and sat down, tired and worn.

It was the first time in years that he didn't let his feet take him where they usually went, didn't hold his arm out to hail a taxi to give an address that had become a second home, didn't put on two items during his morning routine that most other folks didn't.

He watched as the boats sailed by, a number of things coming to mind: 'Waiting for the ship to come in.' 'Two ships passing in the night.' 'Good ship lollipop.'

The last one made him smile as he thought of his daughter and then frowned, the bittersweet memory playing a melody in his head of a child's sing-song take of a Shirley Temple standard.

As years passed, so did the relationship between father and daughter – receiving calls announcing graduation from high school then nursing school. Those were fun gatherings – rare and precious things he'd never forget.

Then there was the addiction that had started the strain, the constant hope that the right horse would come in and with it, the promised ship of the good life.

He pondered all of those things as he watched the sun set behind the city skyline.

"Hey," someone said sitting down next to him. "Glad I played a hunch right for a change."

The tired man turned and looked at the young man beside him who scanned the water. "Going to take that 'hunch' with you to Atlantic City?" he quipped.

The young man didn't turn his head. "Nah, man. I do want to take a good friend out for a proper steak dinner though." This time, he turned and added, "Mind if we celebrate the end of your first day of freedom in style?"

Lennie Briscoe gave him a casual smile as he slapped him on the shoulder. "Sure, Ed. I'd like that."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

She only mentioned the disappointment about the previously made plans because she needed to vent. The last thing she had expected was for him to show up at her door the next morning.

"Well, I'll admit to a _minor_ level of uncertainty about some aspects of it, but since I figured _you_ were the expert…."

That made her laugh; he always found a way to make her laugh when she wanted to cry. "I only mentioned my experiences of it as a _child_. I said nothing about-."

"My dear, are you putting on a front, then?" he asked with mock dismay. "What would the-?"

"Never you mind that," she said still laughing. "Fine, I'll gather up a few things and… You're sure you want to do this?"

The casual, 'does-it-look-like-I'm-joking' smile gave her the answer.

She shook her head again as he followed her inside to wait. The original plans awash in her mind, she had prepared to find ways to soften the blow of disappointment. After all, this wasn't the first time this sort of thing happened – it had become a habit too well known for too long.

And yet the child hoped.

Before she could take the first step upstairs her daughter came bounding down.

"Mommy? Are we going to go horse-back riding today? You said-!"

She caught the energetic child in her arms, looked at her visitor who stood there smiling and said, "Yes, Katie; we're still going horseback riding. After all, it _is_ your birthday." Jamie Ross shared a wink with her boss and friend, and mouthed the words, 'thank you.'


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

She smiled as the tiramisu was set on the table.

"Now only a true gentleman would understand the power of desserts," she said.

He shrugged. "All I know is that it's a legitimate reversal of 'stressed.' Other than that, you've mentioned it _has_ been a while since you've indulged, so…"

She took a small piece with a clean spoon. Closing her eyes, she relished the first bite, enjoying the richness, the textures and every layer in between. After a moment, she opened them again, smiling like a jubilant child. "You're going to spoil me, you know that."

He shrugged again. "What? You survived purgatory. You've put up with the boss quite well and the guys at the 2-7 _love_ you. You're in –you're official."

She offered him a serving but he declined. "You don't know what you're missing," she said slicing another bite.

His smile was warm and inviting, encouraging and sweet. "I'd know what I'd miss if you had chosen to-."

Pointing her spoon at him, she said, "But, I didn't. You gave me the choice, told me whose decision it would be and…I'm glad you're stubborn sometimes."

"Only sometimes?" he asked lightheartedly with a raised eyebrow. "First, you have me keep promises _you_ make and now-?"

She took a new serving on the spoon held out to him, determined not to take 'no' for an answer. "Oh, Jack, just try the tiramisu," Alex Borgia said.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The paper said it all and so much more.

When someone had said things could change in a split second, he knew how true that was – seeing one partner lowered to the ground, another 'grounded' and still… If anyone had asked him then if he thought he'd be here, he would have laughed them off, bought them a drink then caution them it would be their last – given that they may have had a few too many as it was.

No, he wouldn't have heeded the words of the men before him, either – one more like a laid back uncle, the other so definitely paternal, and the last one a mixture of the two. He knew what he had and he wasn't going to apologize for it. It had gotten him this far.

And then again, it had gotten him _this far._

The banishment had been horrible for him, not so much in how little he dealt with what he knew, but with how much time it gave him to deal with what he did.

But all of that was about to change, thanks to a bit of luck, a partner willing to take a risk and a boss who hadn't outright fired him then and there.

A wry smile crossed his lips as he read the paper once more, the golden ticket marked with different numbers, but a 'get out of jail free' card just the same.

Michael Logan was going home.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The boxes were in as much disarray as when she first arrived; the only difference being they, and she, were on their way out.

Had it only been three years since she first walked into this office, ready to take on the world and seek justice to the fullest of her ability? Had it only been three years since she dove in head-first into an investigation, coming up with a coup to keep a child in custody? Had it only been three years since…?

A lot had happened in those three years that was for certain. She had seen one detective go home to care of family, had seen another risk his own 'family' in the pursuit of justice. She watched one district attorney step down and another take his place, the interim's dedication to justice almost equal to her own.

There were clashes with her boss; there were times to cheer, times to cry. From finding her good friend brutally murdered, to confiding something she had never told a living soul… A lot had happened in that short time that felt like a chapter's worth of another lifetime.

And now it was time to move on, to a bigger arena, to bring down larger groups of organized crime.

Yes, the move was maybe a matter of blocks, but the distance would be greater, the goals, objectives larger. Even as she told him the news, she was aware of the small steps she was taking, while telling him she'd be nearby, next door in fact, that she'd probably, very seldom cross paths with him again.

Having lost track of the time, she didn't hear him knock.

"Anything I can do to help?" he asked. "Or do you have everything under control?"

Abbie Carmichael smiled. "I've got it all under control, Jack. Just debating what to order in for a working dinner."

"Sky's the limit, Abbie. My treat."

She gave him a slight nod and returned to the last of the work. Smiling to herself, she repeated, "Yeah, the sky's the limit."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"You know, if you were any other guy trying to do this, I'd slap you-."

"The night's still young," he said offering her his arm.

"-with a restraining order! Come on, what exactly were you thinking? I mean, clearly you weren't otherwise you wouldn't even be-."

She couldn't continue she was so shaken by the unexpected turn of events. Then again, she supposed she asked for it when she blithely said she didn't have anything to do for the night and was getting bored sitting at home. In fact, one of her final comments on the phone was that she felt more and more like L.B. Jefferies than Lisa Fremont.

He told her to find the most celebratory dress she could find and he'd take care of the rest.

She should have known better.

Still hesitant about her companion's plans – and if this went from bad to worse, she'd amend 'companion' to 'former friend' - she allowed him to lead, to where, she wasn't certain.

A Glenn Miller song began to play and her companion stepped back, holding out his hand to her.

"Care to dance, in celebration of losing the brace at last?"

Danielle Melnick smiled. Yeah, he was still a charmer and she still loved him for it. "Oh sure, Jack."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

He looked over the paper once more.

It was hard to believe, after all this time that he'd be under no one now, that he was his own man, his own boss, the one deciding which cases and causes to fight for. He felt good about it.

Yes, the dismissal was unexpected, but then again, that was how budget cuts went – lose some, you lose some. While some verbally complained, ranted, and cursed, he quietly contemplated, researched and composed a plan. After all, one couldn't always attempt to swim upstream if the currents of change were determined to take you elsewhere.

In the end, he hadn't given up everything he had worked for. He had the value of his education, the returns of his learning, as well as his investment of self and knew how to give it back to the community still. All he did was take a few steps to the left of the table, across the aisle, nothing more, nothing less.

The canon of ethics remained the same. Only difference now was he had no one to challenge per se, had the right to go for as much zeal as he saw fit, to bring light to the injustices within, to see changes in the courtroom, the law carried without.

So, Paul Robinette looked over the paper once more, the one with his letterhead on it, seeing a lawyer who was a Black man, seeing a Black man who was still a lawyer.

And he felt good.


End file.
